


Grin and Bare It

by AngeliqueNothing



Series: Bang! [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, Harley Quinn (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consenting Adults, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gymnastics, Harleen Quinzel - Freeform, Harley Quinn - Freeform, Healthy Joker/Harleen Quinzel, I Have NO Idea How This Got So Long!, Jarley - Freeform, Joker (DCU) Angst, Joker (DCU) Played by Jared Leto, Mental Instability, NSFW, Non-violent Joker, Nonabusive Joker and Harley, Origins, POV Alternating, POV Harleen Quinzel, POV Joker (DCU), Past Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel, Pining Joker (DCU), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Relationship, Shameless Smut, Smut, Swearing, The Joker - Freeform, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, We Don't Like Guy Kopski, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000, Wordcount: Under 10.000, You Have Been Warned, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28386735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliqueNothing/pseuds/AngeliqueNothing
Summary: What if Harleen Quinzel had met The Clown Prince of Crime at a different time, in a different place? While he was pretending to be something else entirely, for his own nefarious purposes? What if, already enamored with the Joker, she finds pleasure in pretending right along with him?This is shameless smut with a plot buried DEEP DEEP in there.
Relationships: Guy Kopski/Harleen Quinzel, Jarley Relationship, Joker (DCU) & Harley Quinn, Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel
Series: Bang! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080917
Comments: 29
Kudos: 33





	Grin and Bare It

**Author's Note:**

> I chose to see the Joker and Harley/Harleen relationship in Suicide Squad as a loving (albeit very messed up) relationship. The Clown Prince of Crime went even further down the rabbit hole of insanity when his Queen was taken, and he did everything in his power to get her back. THAT'S the Joker I chose to write about. The tough-don't-give-a-shit on the outside Joker that's all filled with marshmallows and grape soda on the inside. I know it's a very divided subject, but I LOVED Leto as Joker, so he and Margot Robbie are what I envisioned when I wrote this.
> 
> As with everyone that writes in this fandom, I don't own the characters (bla bla bla), I just enjoy writing about them!
> 
> I don't foresee any trigger warnings that need to be placed on this, but please always take care of yourself while reading. There is, like, a second of knife play, but everything is consensual.
> 
> Please, let me know your thoughts - good, bad, indifferent!

The man moving his hips in front of her was gorgeous. Though he still had on the GCPD cap and slim fit pants, those pants seemed to be riding lower and lower on his hips the more he moved. He was all slim waist and deep Adonis belt that just begged to be licked, with broad shoulders leading to arms that were wonderfully corded and looked like they could pick you up and throw you over his shoulder. His build made her think of a runner rather than a football player or some gym rat and those little butterfly wing-looking muscles to the sides of his ribs just beg to be stroked. She couldn’t decide where she wanted to look more, the perfect cupids bow lips that just begged to be bitten and sucked or the eyes that seemed to shift from blue to grey and were staring at her with an intensity she’d never seen before. Not even from Guy.

When he’d been introduced on stage earlier in the night, they’d said his name was Joker, though thankfully (unfortunately, if she was being honest with herself) he looked nothing like the madman that graced the nightly news more often than not lately. His brown hair and almost flawlessly clear pale skin with the lone tattoo running down his forearm didn’t resemble the manic green hair and tattooed makeuped face of the Gotham villain known by the same name. Not that Harleen had paused the news clips to stare at that face for countless minutes at a time, no, of course not. She’d never admit it out loud if asked, at any rate.

Harleen _still_ couldn’t believe that she’d let some of the nurses from work talk her into going to Grin and Bare It. They were having a rare women’s night with men dancing instead of the usually scantily clad women dancing around, and the nurses had needed to blow off some steam after the exceptionally long week at Arkham. She hadn’t wanted to go home to Guy and argue about absolutely nothing yet again. He hadn’t touched her in over a year and she _did_ have to admit that this was an amazing distraction. Even if she would go home sexually frustrated after the show “Joker” was putting on.

“May I…may I touch you?” she stuttered, looking up at the gorgeous specimen in front of her. His dancing paused for a second as he looked down with a curious look on his face and slowly pointed to the sign above the stage that clearly read ‘TOUCHING ALLOWED.’ Clearing her throat, Harleen tried to feel less nervous as she haltingly tried to explain. “I understand the house rules, but I, I was asking _you_ what _your_ rules were. Just because…just because house rules say one thing doesn’t mean someone actually _wants_ to be touched.”

He resumed his slow movements with a slight cock to his head, putting one leg and then the other over her lap, grabbing her hand and placing it in on his hips above the low-riding pants. Leaning in, he placed his mouth next to her ear and explained “there or on the arms.” Nodding, Harleen let her fingers trail into the creases of that perfectly created Adonis belt, digging in gently with her nails and making his back arch slightly. Briefly looking down to hide the smirk fighting to come through, she was startled by his mouth at her ear again. “You can call me Jack, or J. What brings you here tonight?”

Shrugging, Harley tried to explain, “Didn’t want to go home to a lonely apartment and the girls from work convinced me to join them for a ladies night out, instead of just going to the gym and practicing on the aerial silks.” She gestured vaguely to a few of the women not far off standing around a stage with another performer. Returning her eyes to Jack, she slowly ran her hand up the forearm with the HAHAHA tattoo. “My name’s Harleen, by the way.”

“Aerial silks huh?” he asked with a slight quirk to his lips. “We’ve got a room in the back with those. Doesn’t get used much. I could show you if you’d like.”

xxxxxx

When she vigorously nodded her head, J gave her a smirk and stepped back to let her stand. Instead of stepping back as he had expected, she grabbed his bicep in her small hand and leaned in towards him on those towering heels. Though he was used to his body reacting violently towards unexpected touch and had picked her specifically because she’d looked meek and less likely to touch, he found himself relishing the feel of her hands on him. Wanted her to touch him more, possibly scrape those sharp little fingernails along his skin again. Wanted her to uncover the tattoos that had been so laboriously covered earlier in the night for this little foray. It was an unwelcome feeling. Feelings were beyond him by now, weren’t they? They were supposed to be, at any rate.

Putting his hands on her hips to steady her, he was unsurprised to feel tight muscle under the relatively conservative pencil skirt she wore. When she’d fully steadied herself, she explained what she wanted from him for the silks room, forcing a surprised bark of laughter from him. He fought it down the best he could. He was playing a role after all, and that roll was Jack, not Joker. This dame might make that hard to remember; something about her had his Joker side roaring to be let go.

Pointing her towards the tall man in a suit protecting a back door that was almost invisible to the naked eye, Joker told her he’d be right behind her as he needed to go and grab a few things from the back for her. When he got to the back where the dancers dressed, he quickly threw the GCPD cap into one of the unnamed lockers and ran his hands through his slicked-back hair. What the fuck was he doing? This foray into the “field” had gone on for entirely too long and had gone too far to left field. He occasionally played at being normal at each of his establishments to see he could still disappear in plain sight and to see what his underlings were hiding behind closed doors, so “Jack” wasn’t an unknown at this club, yet he felt even more uncomfortable in this skin than he normally did. Roughly grabbing the burgundy shirt that was hanging in the same unnamed locker, he stood up to leave when a tiny woman in disturbingly high stilettos stopped him.

“Jack,” she exclaimed in heavily accented tones, “you don’t need to do zees. You’re a good boy, bright. Do not let that girl turn your head from the reazon you are here.”

Annika was the only dancer at Grin and Bare It that had figured out who he was and survived. She was a tiny thing that kept to herself, though she seemed to care for all of the girls that flowed through the club. She’d chosen to play by the rules he’d silently set down for his time as “Jack” and now refused to call him Joker, even when they were alone as they were now. He let it slide because it was a novelty, and so few things truly surprised the Joker at this stage.

“There’s nothing to worry about Anika. I’ll have some fun and go back to being myself in the morning. It’s an interesting experiment, nothing more.” Why he felt the need to explain himself to the tiny Russian thing, he still didn’t know but it kept her happy and it kept him from having to blow her away. Folding the shirt over his arm, he stalked around her and headed for the back.

Johnny Frost, his main man, was guarding the door as he always was when Joker was in attendance. “Johnny, make sure no one comes through this door. I want no distractions unless the place is burnin’, you understand?”

“Yes boss,” Frost replied. Opening the door for his boss, he closed and stood in front of it as soon as Joker had gone through. He’d be damned if anyone got through this door until the boss said so.

xxxxxx

Harleen quickly walked over to her coworkers and told them she was going to the back for a private dance and not to wait around for her, that she’d see them on Monday. They squealed and wished her luck and told her to have fun, knowing that she’d been having problems at home for some time now. None of the nurses seemed to like Guy, even though they’d never met him.

The man built like a linebacker dressed in a three-piece suit at the door had looked at her funny when she said that she was supposed to go through to the aerial silks room. That was, until she’d explained that J had sent her, just like he’d told her to. The guy cocked his head, thought for a second, and then shrugged, showing her down a hallway with multiple doors on either side. The sound from the main room barely filtered into the hallway, letting in only small wisps of music. Eventually, they got to the room that Jack had mentioned but before she could thank her guide, he had left back to his post.

Harleen looked around and noticed that there were aerial silks attached to the ceiling throughout the room, along with a few swings and hoops at various levels. She wondered when the last time the room had been used, even if it was spotlessly clean. She quickly stripped down to just her unmentionables as well as her gartered stockings and stilettos, folding her clothing and putting it with her purse off to the side of the door she’d entered through. She’d agreed to come to the back as long as he’d let her switch roles with him. She had no idea what had gotten into her, but she felt a burning need in the pit of her stomach to please this man. She hadn’t felt like this since college. Well before Guy. And maybe she needed to remind herself that she was sexy and worth it, that she could be powerful. She needed to remember who she had been before Guy had gotten his hooks into her and made her feel less than, like she shouldn’t be able to hold herself in the same category as “big men” such as he. She was a Doctor for fucks sake, had just as much schooling as Guy, and had done better than he had when she finally started working. Who was he to make her feel like she wasn’t worth the time or the energy, like she didn’t deserve to be desired?

Harleen stopped her wandering and ruminating, brought back to the present when she heard the door open and Jack walk back in. She could hear the rustling of clothing as he put a shirt on and proceeded to button it up half-way while she walked back towards him from behind the silks. “Should I have kept my clothes on and started from there, or is this fine? I thought it might be easier like this?” she explained nervously.

Jack looks her over from head to toe and smirks. “You’re absolutely perfect the way you are. It’s whatever you want doll. You’re calling the shots for the moment” Continuing to smirk, he sits slowly in the chair and leans back with his arms out to the sides, as if to say ‘your move now.’

Shaking her hair out and strutting up to the chair, swinging her hips for all they’re worth and putting a little bit of extra wiggle in her step, she puts her stiletto clad foot on his thigh, letting the heel dig into flesh just a smidge. She proceeds to unhook the garters and roll the stocking down her leg, taking her time.

Before she can get to the next foot, he stops her with her own question thrown back at her, “Can I touch you?” She smiles coyly and tells him that her abdomen and leg-thigh area are where he can touch her. What she really wants to tell him is everywhere, touch her everywhere he can reach but she thinks it’s only fair to give him the same limitations he’d given her earlier in the night. When she puts the second stiletto clad foot on his thigh, he reaches for her garter before she can and slowly unhooks the clasps. Gently sliding his fingertips under the hose, he begins to slide them down, letting his knuckles graze her inner thigh as he goes. As soon as the hose is partway down her leg, he leans in and kisses her inner thigh gently, locking eyes with her. Leaning back, he continues to glide the hose down until finally they’re down around her ankle. He grips her foot and slides the heel off, putting her now bare foot back down on his thigh, stroking her calf as he does so.

Both bare feet on the ground and only her knickers left, Harley saunters away towards the closest aerial silks to begin using her skills with them and seeing if she can throw any seduction into the mix.

After doing a series of basic poses that still look complicated to someone that has never done them and throwing in some gentle leg and foot arches for good measure, she uses the silks to lift herself up and drop upside down, her fingers almost grazing the floor. With her body facing him, she can see him stand from the chair and come to her. As he gets closer, it becomes apparent what this pose would be good for if she’d thought it through as her face is almost perfectly level with his hips. Running her hands slowly up his legs to his hips, she uses them as an anchor to stay where she is.

Running his hands from her calves to her hips, he rubs small circles into her hips, making her arch into his touch with a breathy moan. She can hardly believe that such a simple touch has her practically bucking in pleasure. Stroking up and down her legs, he quietly asks, “How long’s it been, Harley? How long has it been since someone touched you like this? Made you need their touch and started a fire in your body for more?”

With her face scant inches from his waistband, she can see him growing harder. Can see his desire for her grow as the minutes tick by, just as hers is for him. Because she can do nothing less than answer the quiet demand in his voice, she answers truthfully when she tells him more than a year. She’s ashamed of that fact. Ashamed that she’s let it get to this point and hasn’t taken matters into her own hands before now. But maybe if she had changed her situation, she wouldn’t be here right now, in this position, and the thought of that makes her inexplicably sad for some reason.

Using her hands on his hips, Harley slowly turns her body around and reaches up with her hands to the silks next to her legs to gain the proper leverage. Wrapping her arms in the silks to brace herself, she unwraps one leg from the aerial silks and brings it to the ground. Her right hand stays wrapped in the silks next to her still-bound right leg to use as an anchor, keeping her body upright. She can hear Jack slowly walk a circle around her before finally coming to a halt behind her still half-bound body, encouraging her not to untie herself completely just yet with a gentle touch on her bound arm. Slowly so that she is able to stop him at any time, he runs his left hand along her unbound left leg up to her hip, the other gliding from the outside of her calf to the inside of her upper thigh, following her femoral artery. Harley’s body arches into his right hand where his thumb is rubbing up and down her inner thigh, sighing “Jack”. She can feel the hard length of him behind her and leans her head back against the smooth material of his shoulder.

“Tell me you want me to touch you Harley, tell me where you need my hands” is whispered against the shell of her ear, making her whimper. In a breathy whisper, she tells him she needs his hands everywhere. “Where Harls, tell me _where_ ” is said with some force, his hands gripping her where they are to emphasize his point.

“In me, J, I need your fingers in me.”

“Say the magic word baby,” he growls behind her.

“Please, pretty please Mr. J” she moans as she arches into him.

With no warning, he removes the hand closest to her center entirely from her, forcing an indignant sound from her throat until she hears the sound of a switchblade being snicked open. She can feel the press of the flat side of the knife slide slowly along her inner thigh, making her shudder and bring her left arm up behind her to hook around Jack’s neck. Quickly, before she can flinch, he puts the end of the blade under the thin strip of material riding up her ass and pulls outward, snapping the thin material. He quickly does the same to the other side until her panties fall to the ground in front of her, useless. Harley can hear the snick of the blade being sheathed and put back into the pocket of his straining slacks behind her, and the next thing she feels is that free right hand gently gliding over her now exposed opening. She can feel the other hand still on her hip, so tight she’s sure she’ll have bruises in the morning.

“So wet for me already, and I’ve barely touched you” is practically moaned behind her as his index finger swipes at the juices coating her opening. He slowly pushes into her folds, followed by the middle finger. “So tight Harls, so wet and tight.” He pulls his fingers almost all the way out only to insert them again, and again, and again, each time followed by a barley suppressed moan from Harley. “Be as loud as you want doll, the rooms are sound-proofed, and I want to hear my name on your lips when you come,” is said in a gravelly voice barely recognizable as coming from the same man. As he uses his fingers to fuck her, he feels her posture change when he hits a specific spot inside of her, and begins rubbing that inside spot relentlessly each time he enters her. His other hand snakes around her front to touch her clit, making her shout out his name in surprise. She can feel him peppering kisses along her collarbone and shoulder, using his teeth to scrape a path to her spine as his long fingers continue to press into her.

“Harder” she moans, barely more than a whimper.

He complies, using his one hand to press the bundle of nerves that is her clit harder while pistoning his other hand in and out of her dripping cunt. Feeling her tighten further around his dexterous fingers, he presses his lips against the shell of her ear and whispers, “Come for me Harley. Come _now_.”

She readily complies, coming apart beneath his fingers and moaning loudly, hollering “Jack,” as she sees stars behind her eyelids. As if in a cloud, she can feel Jack gently slowing his movements until his fingers simply rest inside of her, while his other hand moves from her clit back to her hips. Slowly, he removes his fingers entirely from her, eliciting a whimper, and reaches up to unwrap her leg and arm from the silks above her head. Her leg drops heavily to the floor and he holds her back to his front, supporting her weight as her legs relearn how to hold her and she relearns how to breathe. As she’s coming down from the hardest orgasm she’s had in ages, she can feel one hand sliding back and forth on her hips and the pad of his other thumb tracing circles into her overly sensitive abdominal muscles as if he’s unable to stop touching her in minute ways.

When she can stand on her own two feet again, she turns around in his arms and gently reaches up to touch his face, following the contours of his cheekbones with her fingertips, letting her hand slip into his hair to play with the short strands at the base of his neck. He leans in and runs his tongue along the seam of her lips and she quickly complies, opening her mouth for him. His tongue delves into her mouth, being met by her own and the kiss quickly devolves into a harsh meeting of mouths and tongues and teeth. She feels as if he’s trying to devour her, take everything she is, and it makes her want to give as good as she’s being given.

She can feel a vibrating in his chest, almost a purr, as he growls and pulls her roughly to him by her ass, until there is not an inch of space separating their bodies. Harley can feel the hard length of him pressed to her stomach, and snaking one hand between their tightly pressed bodies, she begins to rub the front of his erection, eliciting another growl from deep within his throat.

Who would have thought that the mild-mannered man she’d met earlier on in the evening was a beast that growled and carried switchblades with him? Surely not Harley, though it turns her on more than it maybe should.

xxxxxx

Using the hands already attached to her ass, he lifts her up so that her legs can lock around his waist. “Wall or desk Harley?” he growls into her ear, holding on to the “Jack” persona by a thread.

“Desk then wall,” is breathily giggled back.

Leaning in to nibble on her earlobe, he whispers, “Lock your arms around my neck, we’re going for a walk.”

Good girl that she is, she readily does as she’s told and leans down to kiss along his neck and right shoulder as he walks through the door and up a flight of steps he’d know with his eyes closed.

“Where’re we going?” she asks between kisses up his jawline as he continues to walk to his office.

“Boss’s office. Best view and desk. He’s not here at the moment,” he explains with a quirk of his lips. He needed to get Harley’s mouth away from his chest before she found the tattoos that were only lightly covered at this point and the night was ruined when he had to kill her. “Harl, if you could reach down and turn that handle, it’d be great.”

Detaching herself from his neck, she reached a hand down and turned the handle of his office door, momentarily distracted. His office here was bare-bones with only the basic amenities but it did have a wall of windows looking out onto the floor of the club and a sturdy mahogany desk. Said desk was currently covered in papers, and for the life of him he couldn’t remember what he’d been working on last time he was here. Could be anything from the accounting books to information on drug deals to the formula for his latest Joker Gas and plans on how to use it. With a quick swipe of his hand, he sent the papers flying in every direction and placed Harley’s ass on the edge of the desk, kissing her soundly.

Needing to slow himself down lest it be over before it’s begun, he gently runs the pads of his fingers up her thighs, marveling at the hard layers of muscle under such soft skin. Clearly not feeling the same need to take it slow, she makes quick work of his shirt by grabbing either side and roughly pulling it open. Joker can hear the buttons _ping_ across the floor around them and has barely registered the sound before she’s started work on his belt buckle. Pulling away from her lips and reaching between them, he grabs her wrists and moves her hands roughly to either side of her.

“Harley doll, daddy will tell you when he wants your help. Understand?”

Harley makes a humming noise of agreement and runs her hands up to the short hairs at the base of his skull following her progress with her mouth. He can feel her warm breath against his jaw, teeth scraping as she goes towards his carotid. Can she feel it jump beneath her attention? Can she feel the vein that goes from his heart to his brain push against the skin begging for her attention?

Growling, he pushes the ridiculous thoughts away and grips her hips tight enough that she’ll feel the indents of his fingers tomorrow. He reaches between them and runs a hand through her dripping slit, letting his palm rest there for a moment, trying to recompose “Jack.” That is, until the whimper of “Please J, please fuck me,” filters through to his brain, and “Jack” is thrown by the wayside. He begins reaching for his back pocket where he’d stashed condoms earlier, but she pauses his search and practically pauses his bloody heart when he hears her whimpered “I’m on the shot, I need to feel you inside of me J, all of you, nothing between us. Give me everything.”

Fucking _hell_ this woman!

Helping her down from the desk, Joker makes sure she slides slowly down his front, feeling how hard he is and letting the fabric of his slacks scrape against her sensitive bits. Turning her around roughly by her hips, he runs a hand from her cunt up between her perfectly formed ass cheeks along her spine, reaching to unhook the bra that is somehow still there. He gently slides the straps from her shoulders, running his hands down her arms and across her ribcage to tease the line just under those perfectly perky breasts, teasing but not touching. She rests the back of her head against his shoulder while he softly kisses her neck and shoulder, still not running his hands where he knows she wants them. Unable to stay still, the little gymnast begins to wiggle her hips and tries to press her chest out to force his hands up, practically arching her body. As he comes down for the next kiss, he uses his teeth and tongue to leave his mark at the junction of her neck and shoulder while at the same time finally reaching up to harshly pinch the nipple of one breast and gently kneading the other. She practically wails at the combined pleasure and pain, sensations that are likely confusing the little minx’s brain.

Removing his hands from her chest all too soon, Joker bends her over the desk with his left hand on her spine, running that hand up to her shoulder and into curls that have become riotous. Gently hooking her hair around her right ear and pulling it towards her left shoulder so that he can still see a sliver of her face, he reaches in and fists his hand in the hairs at the base of her skull, pulling lightly.

“Don’t come until I tell you to Harl, I’ll be _mighty_ displeased if you do,” growled Joker, smacking her ass with his right hand while simultaneously tightening the hand in her hair to emphasize his point. The sound of her whimpering acquiescence was music to his ears.

Rubbing the pink spot he’s made on her perfect ass, he brings his hands to her hips and bends down to kiss the spot before biting down hard enough to leave teeth marks, eliciting an unexpectedly throaty moan from her at the mixture of pleasure and pain. Smiling at the clear mark of ownership, he smacks the spot once more for good measure as he stands and finishes unbuckling his belt. Slowly sliding the belt out of the loops so that she can hear the rustle of the leather against fabric, he pulls the zipper down just enough to pull his cock out of his pants.

Harley moans at the sound of the zipper being pulled down and he can’t help his full-mouthed smile at the noise, almost more a baring of teeth.

“Spread for me Harley,” he tells her as he nudges her legs open a bit wider, fisting his cock. “Such a good girl,” he can’t help but praise as she quickly complies.

Gently teasing her opening with the head of his cock, she pushes back with a little wiggle of her hips to encourage him. Giving her ass a resounding _whack_ , he grabs her hips to keep her still. The slowness is just as much a tease to him as it is to her, but it’s needed. There’s no way she’ll be able to take the whole length of him right off the bat – better to ease her into it, especially if it’s really been as long as she says it has. Slowly, almost as punishment for her wiggle, he slides just the head of his cock into her opening a few times, making the wanting, the needing for her, almost unbearable. If her mewling is anything to go by, she’s feeling the same and it gives him a perverse sort of glee.

“Please, J, _please_ ,” she practically sobs in frustration, grabbing the edge of the desk to stop herself from moving against his hands and hips. Not being able to argue with her sentiment, he begins to slide slowly, oh so slowly into her tight pussy. The feeling of her wet heat beckoning him in was bliss. Once he was seated fully inside of her, he gave her body a moment to adjust before continuing to move torturously slowly in and out a few times to loosen her up and get used to the size of him. His fingers grip her hips for all he’s worth, not wanting to break this girl that intrigues him for who knows what reason by moving too swiftly.

After a few slow strokes, he gives in to his need to move, sliding almost all of the way out so that just the tip of his head is in her wet opening, and ramming forcefully back in, hitting the top of her cervix. He repeats this movement a few times, eliciting a breathy noise from Harley each time. He finds his rhythm, going faster and pushing her hipbones into the table with the force of his thrusts, growling encouraging words at the top of each thrust as she moans.

The feeling of her still-tight cunt gripping him shouldn’t feel like a new experience, sex is a bodily function after all, and he’s never been one to deny himself any form of pleasure. But this, this feels like nothing he’s ever experienced before. He can’t help but think that the feel of her sheathing his cock and the breathy little moans she gives him might almost be a religious experience.

Slowing his movements but by no means stopping, he grabs Harley’s left leg and pushes it up onto the table to change the angle, letting his right hand snake around and under her to grab a nipple and twist between his fingers. Trying to stop himself from finishing too soon, he digs his left hand into her hip with crushing force, and tweaking her nipple a bit harder than he means to.

The change of position causes his dick to hit _that_ spot inside of Harley, and his ego is more than just a bit pleased when she whimpers and repositions her hold on the side of his desk as if holding on for dear life as well. Not having picked back up the previously punishing rhythm after the change in position, on the next swipe of her g-spot, Harley growls out, “Harder Joker, HARDER.”

His body stutters at the sound of his name on her lips as he all but pauses his movements, mouth hovering over her spine. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear his proper name on her lips until that moment.

“Say my name again, Harley,” he growls into her spine, his thrusts picking up speed.

“Please Joker, please,” is torn out of her throat, almost a scream. He pounds into her, making sure to hit that special spot inside of her with each thrust, making her say his name like a prayer, a benediction.

Feeling his balls getting tighter with each thrust, he starts to lose the rhythm he’d built back up. “Touch yourself Harley, come with me,” he practically begs her. She reaches her hand down between them and starts to play with her that bundle of nerves at her apex, bucking her hips wildly. Between him hitting her g-spot and her playing with her clit, she cries out for everything she’s worth only a moment later, screaming his name, his proper name, as she comes apart under him. It’s his name on her lips that has him falling over the edge, seeing stars and the universe and every other cliché he’d thought trite before now.

He slows his thrusting but continues to push into her, letting her body milk him for every drop of cum that he can give her. Finally satiated, J pulls her leg gently down from the table so it’s back on the floor and leans over her back, peppering kisses along her spine, teeth scraping, massaging her hips with his thumbs, murmuring her name into her skin. If he stops touching her, stops being connected, he’s sure something momentous will be done and over with, and he’s not ready.

It felt as if a piece of his soul had clicked into place, a piece he hadn’t even known he was missing. Hell, it clicked into place in a soul he hadn’t known _existed_ until that moment.

xxxxxx

Thinking that J is more preoccupied with finding every freckle on her back to devour than staring at her face, she lets a goofy smile spread across her face and basks in the highest high she’s ever experienced while occasional shudders still rack her body. Harley can’t help but giggle breathlessly. The psychologist in her tells her that it’s a release of tension, but she’s not sure that’s all it is. It feels like a piece of her has clicked into place, as if she is _finally_ where she belongs.

She can’t pinpoint the exact moment that it became apparent who was fucking her into a desk, but it might’ve been one of the times he’d growled or the way he’d said certain words. She’d watched and re-watched enough of the news footage of him to think that she’d know him in a dark alley just by the sound of his voice, after all. How wrong she’d been!

She’d been thoroughly fooled by “Jack,” at least for a bit there. It was frustrating! How could he want someone as dull as she was? To not even be able to figure this out was tantamount to stupidity! Guy would have outright laughed at her by now if he were here. She could practically hear him taunting her, ‘the psychologist with the big brain couldn’t spot the _Joker_?’ But he’d wanted her anyway, hadn’t he? The way he’d been using her name, as if it were a prayer, when he came told her he’d at least enjoyed himself. So why should she argue?

xxxxxx

What she can’t see is Joker staring at her face after each kiss to her back, watching the emotions flick across her face at almost breakneck speed. He’s long since given up the majority of emotions, hidden them behind rage and laughter, but like the good sociopath that he is, he has learned to recognize them in others. And right now, her face is a riot of emotions he hasn’t bothered to understand in some time. So he continues to stroke her hips and kiss the freckles on her back, paying special attention to each scar he finds in his exploration. Letting her work through her own emotions.

xxxxxx

Not wanting to give up the ruse quite yet, worried that it could get her killed to say it outright (and really, who wants to die after they’ve finally understood what a religious experience a mind-blowing orgasm can be for the first time?!), Harley giggles as she says, “I’d love to see the boss’s face when he comes into cum stains on his desk. Think he’ll appreciate them?”

She can feel him smiling into her back as he tries not to laugh, tries not to let Joker out any more than he already has. “Baby, I promise, he’ll love it” She can feel his pleasure at the way she’s let him keep the ruse of “Jack” in the way he gently bites down on a particularly nasty looking scar she knows is back there.

“Harl, baby, I’ve gotta send you home now,” he says with reluctance in his voice. She can feel him start to pull out of her and she shakes her head. She doesn’t want to go yet. The voices go away when he’s near. They all seem to be in agreement, at least for the moment, that they needed more of him. “The club should be closing soon and I’ve got to get going too,” he says with continued reluctance. He takes a step back, completely separating their bodies except for the hands he keeps on her hips. As if he can’t bear the thought of complete separation either.

As she stands, she can already feel it in the way her legs shake that she’ll be bruised and sore for the next week, but oh what a week it’ll be! Turning her around by her hips, he studies her like a canvas, like a work of art. A slow, very Joker smile spreads across his face as his eyes trace the marks from her shoulders to her hips. Being able to look at all of the marks in the mirror in the days to come will be a joy for her as well. She’ll be able to relive the making of each mark with each movement. She’s just going to ignore the problem of Guy for the moment. No need to muddy the waters of the pleasure she’s feeling at present.

With a growl, he gives in and pulls her in for a kiss, pressing the entire length of her naked body against his partially clothed one with one hand on her lower back and the other tangling in her hair. Her own hands reach up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, if that’s at all possible. His lips devour hers, as if trying to memorize the feel of her, the taste of her.

xxxxxx

Finally, after too short of a time, he pulls his mouth away and takes a cellphone out of his pocket, dialing with one hand while caressing the small of her back with the other. He can’t seem to let her go just yet.

“Johnny, bring the clothing and bag from the silks room up to the office, will ya? And then bring the car around.”

Looking her up and down, the thought of Johnny walking in and seeing her like this puts a scowl on his face. Disentangling from her, he stuffs himself back in his pants and zips them up as he walks over to a small set of drawers in the corner of the office and grabs out one of his emergency shirts and a pair of sweatpants. The shirt’s a dark plum color and will be a good deal too large for her, but the thought of her swimming in his shirt with the riotous blond curls falling around her _is_ appealing.

Quickly putting the shirt on before his henchman can arrive, Harley has barely slipped on the sweats and used the tie to cinch them before Frost gives a short knock on the door and walks in. Quickly depositing the requested items near the door with his eyes on the floor, he beats a hasty retreat saying that he’ll be back in just a moment once the car is pulled around.

Standing in the middle of the chaos that is now his office, papers strewn every which way, he watches Harley go to her purse, grabbing something out and quickly writing on it before coming back to him. Pulling him in for another kiss by the bare belt loops of his pants, he can feel her slip that something into his front pocket before using both hands to run along his jaw and shoulders. It feels as if she’s trying to memorize the feel of him and he can’t help but do the same, running his hands up and down her back, along her hips and ribs, and finally into her hair. He’s pulling her closer and contemplating keeping her after all when there’s another knock on the door. Growling, he leans his forehead against hers for a moment, hands tangled in her hair, trying to slow his breathing.

Johnny comes in and, keeping his eyes respectfully on the ground says in his deep voice, “if you’ll follow me, ma’am, I have the car waiting downstairs.”

He can hear her own growl low in her throat at the interruption and his cock twitches in response. Holy fucking hell this woman could have him going all night if he let her. Turning her around by her hips, he gives her a light push towards Johnny, smacking her ass as she starts walking.

When she finally gets to the door, she turns for one last look, smiles coyly and as a parting shot tells him “next time, don’t cover the tattoos,” and saunters out behind Johnny, closing the door gently behind her.

Once she’s gone, he reaches a hand into his pocket and pulls out the note. It’s her business card, but on the back in hastily scrawled ink is a different number. Turning it over to look at the professional information, he can’t help the laugh that explodes out of his mouth.

Harleen Quinzel, MD.  
Psychiatrist  
Arkham Asylum

Who would have thought the best shag he’s had, possibly ever, is a bloody psychiatrist, and at Arkham of all places!

The little minx.

_La Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Please, let me know what you thought of this. It's my first time posting any form of fanfiction, so comments, kudos, or personal messages are greatly appreciated!!


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